


DRINK ME

by RebelDrFerguson



Series: BvS Vampire AU [1]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League (2017)
Genre: BAMF Alfred, Blood Kink, Blood Play, Bruce being a lil tease, F/M, Fighting, Foreplay, Fuckathon of dirty talk, I wrote twenty pages of this, M/M, Mentions of Underage, Multi, Porn with a teeny tiny bit of throwaway plot, Rough Sex, Sexy growling, Teeth kink, Vamp!Alfred, Vampire AU, Vampire Sex, accent kink, and you know it you dirty dirty readers, because your not here for the plot, then deleted it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelDrFerguson/pseuds/RebelDrFerguson
Summary: Everyone knows Thomas Wayne had a secret. His secret just happened to be his Butler. They both had a secret love affair. But for what reason only come to light when Bruce turned fifteen and Alfred was attacked in the manor. Bleeding out on the kitchen floor, the young heir was shown the real reason why Thomas and Alfred were so devoted to each other's cause.Twenty-five years later, its March 1st and Bruce is sat in his bed watching the sun sink beyond the horizon and awaiting a blood hungry lover like he does at the start of every month.





	DRINK ME

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: THIS IS AU. Ovb Jeremy Irons is not a vampire. But wouldn't that be cool though? This is a single chapter for now... I have like 2 more chaps in progress because I'm a plot whore but you know...I need to know you like this first before I get you, Barry and Diana, as well!

The last of winter’s frost was finally dying away, giving birth to green grass and wet paths, to light blue skies and ever so slightly less grey clouds. The leaves on Alfred's rose bushes were coming back in full and Bruce knew they’d look as beautiful as they did every single year. 

 

It hadn’t been the warmest of days for a while and Bruce had been so relieved to finally stumble through the front door of his lakehouse that deary Thursday and shed his charcoal grey suit. He finds his dinner in the oven, a note on the side. 

 

_ Eat up, I’ll be in by 10 - A  _

 

Lifting the pot from where it warmed, Bruce grins down as he tips the lid. Honey glazed ham and roasted veg. Alfred always knew how to please. 

 

Since February 1st, Bruce had drummed his fingers, stroked at his throat and been left crossing his legs in his private bathroom as he jerked himself off to the memories of cool war calloused hands, sweat-soaked sheets and bruising kisses. 

 

Not to mention the delicious scratch and scrape of dangerously sharp teeth. 

 

Sat at the dinner table surrounded by folders and papers, he thumbs through them, eating not one but two portions of the roast meat and veg before seeking out the handmade cupcakes Alfred brought for him on the first of every month. 

Why? He guessed it had something to do with how the flavours tinted his blood, his taste. 

 

Honey, chocolate...figs, plantains, oranges. These cupcakes were blueberry and his favourite aside from the salted caramel. 

 

Throughout the month Alfred would cook a long list of meals, variety was a massive part of Bruce’s diet and every one of them was heavy on minerals, vitamins, protein. He saved anything sweet or sugary for the final week of the month, enough so Bruce would not only wear it off without weight gain but it would feed his own cravings for his lover’s unique taste. 

 

Garlic was rarely used, it was if at all used in dishes the first fortnight after Alfred had stated his thirst and never in cloves. It wasn’t harmful per se, just smelt and tasted utterly disgusting to the older male, raw cloves he avoided at all costs, cooked he could if he was willing to risk it, eat it, although he knew too much would make him violently sick for days. 

 

Alfred ate at most one meal a day. Mostly for show and also because dinner time on an evening was important for the crime-fighting vigilante. He would sit and eat with Bruce to encourage the younger to keep up his blood sugar for however dangerous the evening would likely become. His portion would always be much smaller, but he enjoyed cooking for his lover and he knew it put the Wayne heir at ease to see him do something so human. 

 

Dinner having been eaten and paperwork stacked aside for work the next day, Bruce sat on the sofa with the box of cupcakes and flicked through the endless TV channels watching the clock fade away from six o'clock until nine. 

 

As the grandfather clock chimed Bruce stood, turning off the screen and picking up the remote for the window blinds. 

 

As every night, thick velvet roller blinds slid down over the huge glass windows sending the room into a dark grey hue and smothering the colours the last of the daylight blessed with its rays. 

 

Stripping from his T-shirt and grey sweatpants Bruce steps into the shower, washing away the sweat and scents of the office of the people he worked around. 

 

Padding out of the steam filled bathroom in just his fluffy white towel he sits on the bed, hair damp and skin flushed from the heat. 

 

He turns on the TV again leaving it muted on the news channel as he lays back on the black silk sheets and watches the sun die out on the horizon over the lake. 

 

He’s never as calm as he is on these nights. Something about this day of the month made him feel like the world could disappear and nothing could ever go wrong again. It made him feel safe and for a man who lived on the outskirts of such a dangerous city that was a rare feeling. 

 

Just as the clock beside the rolling news headline turns to six minutes past ten, Bruce hears the bookcase door to the cave click shut and the sound of soft soled boots tread cautiously out as the office door shut and a key turned with a small thunk. 

 

Cave locked up for the night, they were free to play. 

 

A thrum of excitement rushes through his veins and his half hard cock twitches with want beneath the towel as the door handle turns and opens to reveal his Butler. 

 

Wait, scratch that. Alfred hadn’t really been his butler for years, he cooked and cleaned for simply something to do, his real role had become more that of a protector and lover in the last ten years. 

 

The man who kept the Bat on top of the crime in the city, while being the man atop of Bruce Wayne in the bedroom. 

 

Bruce takes his time admiring the older as he approaches the bed, his molten chocolate brown eyes glittering with a spark of fiery gold as the creature beneath the skin perused his meal ticket. 

 

In the beginning, it terrified the heir to know he’d agreed to become a vampire food source but after the first few months and the gradual involvement of sex as Bruce turned eighteen, it became so much more to them both than just a kinky game of hunter and prey.

 

Sure, he'd been underage when he first spread his legs for the male but he'd already had his cock in two or three girls by then anyway so since no one was willing to question the billionaire playboy and well, he turned twenty-one quick enough, this was Gotham, no one cares. 

 

“Enjoy your dinner?” Alfred asks with a smirk, his tongue peeking out to swipe at his lower lip.

 

Unlike most days, Alfred was dressed a bit smarter, his charcoal grey striped shirt was a common piece, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, the set of thick heavy duty black braces held up the dark suit trousers and his gun holster, whilst his silk black waistcoat was already unbuttoned, the watch chain that usually hung out, was tucked away. The human visage that had everyone believing him to be just the faithful old father figure slash butler no longer fooled Bruce so easily. 

 

The light from the TV made his pristine silver hair shimmer as he came to stop at the end of the bed. 

 

“Yes, thank you, made my day actually.” Bruce smiles knowingly as Alfred’s cool fingers come to his bare ankle feeling out his pulse under the hot skin. Bruce felt his heart rate jump stations and his cock stiffened further becoming more than evident under the loose white towel. 

 

“That’s good because...I’ve been looking forward to this meal...all day…” The soft rumble of the butler’s monotone deepened til a lion-like purr echoed from his chest. 

 

“You’ve no idea how badly I want you right now” Bruce whimpered earning a dark chuckle as the hand started up his leg. 

 

“Oh I do, I can feel it...I can feel it in, every, heartbeat…” he growls pressing himself over Bruce’s bare form and tugging the loose towel away letting his perfectly manicured nails tease up the underside of the younger’s hard cock. 

 

Bruce bucks his hips with a moan letting his head fall back on the pillows as the conflicting sensations of Alfred’s cooler palm around his cock and silk blend trousers brush against his bare legs. 

 

“Alfred…” The Butler’s name leaves his lips in a rush of breath as Alfred tightens his grip, lips coming to his chest, kissing a teasing path up towards Bruce’s bared throat. 

 

“Yes, love?” He asks with a hint of curiosity. Bruce had grown so used to their lovemaking that he’d begun requesting Alfred let loose a bit. 

 

At first, it was just slow and tauntingly erotic, by this point it had become rough bordering on violent at times, leaving Bruce sore and bruised in the morning, utterly spent but completely sated in a much more meaningful sense. The Butler should have known the younger’s love for fight play would enter the bedroom soon enough. 

 

“Can you...do it like you used to when I was younger?”

 

The question threw him for a moment before he cast a smirk and lowered himself back to Bruce’s groin. 

 

“It would be my pleasure, my boy to sink my teeth into these thighs again.” He purrs palming Bruce’s huge muscular thighs with his cool hand. “But may I ask why?”

 

Bruce blushed and looked towards the window shyly. “It just always felt so good…”

 

And by that he meant, he always came. The first time Alfred sunk his teeth into his thigh at fifteen on the kitchen floor, Bruce had been in tears unsure how he could help the vampire. 

 

Knowing that unless he found someone for Alfred to feed from the older could die in the hour and he’d panicked for a good ten minutes until he offered himself unable to find any other options. 

 

Alfred had at first rejected the offer, unwilling to break such a fragile bond between them just because he’d been outnumbered by foolish burglars. 

 

But as he grew weaker and unable to stand he was left to accept that unless he fed from Bruce there and then, he’d not have the strength to heal enough to go hunting for another source and the pig’s blood in the hidden fridge in his room wouldn't be enough either. 

 

So with what strength he had left, he’d pressed Bruce into the floor just outside the puddle of blood that was blooming over the white tiles and ripped open the boy's jeans sinking his teeth with as much care as he could into his soft pale thigh. 

 

If Bruce hadn’t been so scared and so emotionally conflicted tainting his taste, Alfred might have never stopped drinking. Because sweet mouthful after mouthful like thick hot chocolate burst through his veins, warming him to the core almost physically as he broke his fast of human blood for the half a year he’d sworn to abstain. 

 

The boy had soiled his briefs, with the conflicting pleasure Alfred’s feeding brought and left him confused and feeling vulnerable when Alfred finally tasted the younger’s blood tinge with bitterness as the arousal and warmth of orgasm wore off, replaced with fear.

 

Now here they were twenty-five years later, with Alfred kissing at Bruce’s firmer, larger and far juicer thighs, holding off the want to sink his teeth in just yet for the sake of foreplay. 

 

“Only here?” He asks politely because honestly it never ever felt nice to just bite where he wanted, he did enjoy Bruce’s throat far more these days, his wrist if he was desperate but he’d never sink his teeth where they’d be bloody well unwanted. 

 

“You can have my neck when I’ve blown this load, I might have got a bit ahead in the shower” Bruce admits wiggling his hips making Alfred grin and his fangs lengthen slightly.

 

“Ou, you're spoiling me tonight Master Wayne” He growls sitting up to divest himself of his shirt and shrugs down the braces, tossing the gun and holder onto the floor along with his boots. 

 

“Hungry?” Bruce sighs, spreading his legs and letting his hands knot into Alfred’s hair as the older nuzzled at his erect cock sucking at the base and teasing the tip with his tongue. 

 

“For you? Al-ways” The words break up into a louder more predatory snarl as Alfred’s eye’s flood gold and his teeth descend scraping Bruce’s thigh with dangerous intent before sinking in. 

 

“Ah!FuckYES!” 

The sharp sensation of the skin and muscle being pierced faded with the first mouthful as the butler drank deeply with frightening strength. He felt every swallow with Alfred’s jaw pressed tight to his leg and counted them for his own sanity and Alfred’s reassurance that the younger wouldn't allow him more than he needed. 

 

Six…

 

Seven…

 

His orgasm was bubbling up with desperation and Bruce reached for his cock only to have his hand pushed away, looking down to see hot gold eyes watching him from his thigh as Alfred’s free hand came around his cock, stroking just a few times before Bruce was thrown over the edge shuddering to completion, streaking his torso in semen as Alfred swallowed his last. 

 

Fourteen…

 

Fifteen. 

 

Sitting back on his heels licking his lips, Alfred admired the mess. The streaks of blood on Bruce’s thigh were the bite was healing, the splatters and globs of semen that painted the younger's muscular torso and the sweat that was already dampening the heirs drying locks. 

 

He sat stroking the younger’s hips with his thumbs for a few minutes as Bruce’s blue eyes fluttered open, already so soft and sated but beneath their tranquil sea blue sat a storm that wished to be witnessed. 

 

Hunger stated, his own body thrummed now with a burning arousal, his cock straining in the confines of his suit trousers already leaking in anticipation as Bruce’s cock had yet to soften completely. 

 

Lowering his zipper to free his cock, Alfred watches as Bruce regains his breath and takes a second to admire the butler’s length, his eyes widening with want. 

 

Alfred can still taste him on his lips, so sweet, deliciously hot and potent, Bruce tasted far more innocent than he should, but then there was the burn, the almost dark tinge to the blood in the aftertaste that reminded Alfred every time they did this that the sweet innocent ten-year-old boy he once knew had been tainted by the cruel and uncaring city streets of Gotham itself. 

 

That Bruce was no longer young and carefree, but lonely, growing older every day and far more fed up with the world. 

 

“Fuck me” 

 

The words floated towards him on a heated and shuddered breath before being smothered by Alfred’s lips, the kiss grew rough and violent in seconds, teeth clashing and tongues tasting, Bruce being spurred on by the hint of blood in Alfred’s mouth while the older moaned around the tang of the blueberry sauce that the cupcakes had left colouring the younger’s tongue.

 

Bruce knew that saliva made a poor lubrication, hell even blood did better but no matter the rush or fumble Alfred seemed to keep a pocket-sized packet of lube on him on nights like this. Water-based because god knows how hard that coloured gel Bruce had brought last year was to get out of the sheets. 

 

The reminder that Alfred was likely already considering the mess he'd have to clean made Bruce almost giggle in childish delight as two fingers pushed into his ass with no hesitation, testing, teasing, Alfred never went in unprepared. He might be a vampire but he was still one hundred percent British, always the gentleman. 

 

“What is there not to love about a bit of homemade moan and groan, hm?” Alfred smirks, fingers curling into Bruce’s sweet spot and making the heir’s cock stiffen in pleasure. 

 

“I always love it, we cou-could do it-more-often…” Bruce gasps trying to keep his hips still and failing. 

 

Alfred tuts pressing his fingers deeper and pressing a kiss to the younger’s cock. “You know why I don’t Master Wayne, once a month is enough, do recall we’ve shortened it from every three” 

 

Bruce did recall, as a boy Alfred was adamant that he didn't always need fresh offerings and would find ways to procure blood from the hospital’s A&E by paying medical students who were convinced he was a local doctor caring for an in-home patient. 

 

A ruse Thomas had made up when they first found that they’d need a backup source of blood should Tom be unavailable to feed Alfred. 

 

So as a boy, Bruce would watch Alfred go about as normal only seeking the boy out every three months at the very end of the month, perhaps a little shy he’d add, to take up the boy’s offer. 

 

Bruce had told the butler he’d feed Alfred whenever the man wished as long as he had nowhere to be the next day as being so young it took him a good twelve hours to recover. 

 

So when three months came, Bruce would grow excited and a little brave sitting on his bed naked and waiting for Alfred to come to him. 

 

A human shouldn’t have such control over a more powerful being and Bruce knew this, but as the years passed and the feedings grew more passionate, lustful and the sex grew more wanting and urgent they found the simple agreement had ironically bled and merged, molded into a relationship so hard to describe that Bruce was left to admit there were possibly a few very naughty kinks in there he’d never had before. 

 

Blood was one thing. The second-hand taste of himself on Alfred's lips made him moan, sent sparks through his veins and his groin ache for attention. The sight of blood depending on where it had come from always made his cock twitch, made him wet his lips as it fueled memories of his nights with Alfred.

 

The daddy kink was another. It had taken a lot of time for Bruce to finally let his parent’s ghosts go and he found himself comforted by the fact that even though the first time he had called Alfred, dad, on father’s day one year had left them both in tears, that Alfred had felt genuinely blessed and elated to earn the title and had laughed out loud when Bruce called him daddy in bed one evening. 

 

Alfred’s accent was another one. The deep monotoned British drone had once annoyed the heck out of him when Alfred got sarcastic because sometimes you couldn't even tell if he was being serious. But over the years it had warmed through him, tickling something inside that lead to the fact that Bruce had embarrassingly and accidentally had an orgasm in his Batsuit on a rooftop one night with just the way Alfred was purring in his ear about a location after a particularly exciting fight. 

  
  


A firm press to his prostate brought him back from the haze of thought and he groaned running his hand down Alfred’s back as the older nipped and kissed at this throat. 

 

“P-please Alfred...I want you”

 

With that, the Butler’s fingers slid free and were replaced swiftly by his cock pressing deep and they both moaned out the room falling away as the need took over and he started pounding into Bruce with everything he had. 

 

Bruce was thankful he had the bed reinforced and the mattress replaced with something that would absorb the rough abuse as he grunted and keened with every thrust clawing at the older’s back, legs wrapped around Alfred’s waist as the butler slammed his cock as deep as it could go, high on the feeling of the edging orgasm. 

 

“Fuck Bruce.” Alfred grunts, a growl leaving his lips as he pulls free hauling the younger over onto his front with one hand and pinning his hips down with bruising force as he shoved himself back inside with a sigh. 

 

The change of angle left the younger thrashing in the sheets, voice pitching with every thrust pressing directly against his prostate, his cock gaining friction against the mattress.

 

“Alf-fuck...Alfred!” He begs loudly feeling the sweat rolling in beads down his face into the pillows, his moans growing weaker as he loses the will to fight and goes limp letting himself be used and reaches down between his legs to stroke at Alfred’s balls as they give a satisfying slap against his own. 

 

He moans out at the feeling of teeth against his back, taunting and vicious, leaving red welts as they mark, fading into kisses, into soothing hands and louder grunts as he’s lifted up by his hair, up onto his knees to lean backwards over Alfred’s shoulder. Sat on Alfred’s cock he whimpers as the vampire scrapes his fangs across his jugular just shy of breaking the skin over the tiny pink marks that were fading from the month before.

 

“Fuck, Bruce I’m coming, stroke yourself.” Alfred huffs hard into his throat, shoving the younger back on the sheets and pulling out again to flip him over and drive back in with such force Bruce cries out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as the man’s left hand comes to his face, tilting his jaw up sharply as he fucks the younger into the sheets. 

 

It took no more than ten more thrusts before Alfred roared out, sinking his fangs back into Bruce’s pale throat, moaning around a mouthful of blood as their orgasm rushed through them both and the vigilante’s blood sparked with a taste like honey, warm and flushed, comforting like the first day of autumn. 

 

He drank slower here, savouring the sweet taste on his tongue as Bruce fluttered down from the high once again. 

 

Licking at the bite marks sent the younger to sleep, curled up together as the clock struck eleven thirty, the blinds came down on auto, shrouding the room in an ominous black, save for the glittering in Alfred’s eyes from the low light of the TV which he turned off with the remote on the bedside table. 

 

He smiles in the dark, playing with Bruce’s soft greying locks and letting his own eyes fall shut. 

 

“Sleep well, love”

**Author's Note:**

> I live for feedback!


End file.
